The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-12-31
Translated for The ArkdnSaW TrdUeler. ROARING PETE, OF SLOP
 PY GULCH.
A Christmas Story la Bret Harte.
BY HAL BERTE.

"The man as kills fly, savin' in the way O kindness, ain't fit ter live"
 It was a remarkable scene, one of those scenes only too common in the far west-a drinking bar of Wall Eyed Jim's saloon, located ill Sloppy Gulch. A motley group stood around, all the choice spirits of the camp were there, and, as I said before, they stood around. AS matter of fact some of them sat around, but that is quite immaterial to the progress of this narrative. It is material, however, much as we re- gret it at such an early stage, that we leave this gilded saloon awhile to re- turn thither anon.
 One day Roaring Pete, the biggest "tough," the awfulest swearer, the champion liar and most notorious gambler and cheat that ever made earth infamous, was missing from Sloppy Gulch. A great many other things were missing at the same time gone, so to speak, stealing away"
 It was summer when Pete went, and as hot as they made it out there, but it would have been made much hotter for Pete, had he not been putting ill an dIibt just then. In the eager rush for wealth, however, such incidents as these pass out of remembrance with their participants and erring Pete was soon forgotten.
 Time rolled n-went-flew-pas whichever you will, and the cruel snows of Christmas came drifting into Sloppy Gulch. And with them that Christmas Eve came one of the strangest sights ever witnessed there in the memory of living man-s preacher. Clad ill the sombre vest ments of his sacred calling, his neck adorned by spotless white tie, a pail of blue goggles resting upon his nose he was sighted heading for Sloppy Gulch at the rate of five miles al hour. The news spread through the camp like an epidemic. In five min. utes the whole population of Sloppy Gulch had gathered to receive tho stranger. To say that feeling of awe had catered into the souls of the crowd, would faintly describe theil emotions. Some of these men had never set eyes on Q preacher since boy. hood, and only too conscious of theil manifold backslidings since then, they almost feared to meet one face to fact now; and SO, like men stricken with mental paralysis, they awaited tho coming interview.
 "Say, pards, hadn't we better bt singin' suthin'?" suggested young fellow, evidently tenderfoot. "Won' it make us look more decent like Thar's Seth, meow, Seth, start suthin' we'll jine."
 At any other time such proposa would have been met with derisiol and the man summarily dealt with but not man objected now.
 The Seth referred to looked sheepish
 "Don't know nothin'. Want hymn I reckon. Stay though, thar's 'Johl Browns Bodyp P"
 Next minute the pine trees seemed to be bending over to listen to hu man voice. It was the voice of Seth and he sang as he never sang before: 'John Browns body lies mouldering in tn
 ground,
 But his soul Is marching on."
 The preacher was close now. Whel the volume of sound burst in all it fullness upon his aural flaps, he stoo, still and listened. He was evidentl, touched, for he pulled red bandann handkerchief out and wiped his eyes it might have been his nose, but n matter.
 Not until the last echoes had die, away did he move forward. Thel Seth stepped boldly out to meet him
 "Peace be with you, my brother, said the preacher.
 "Preacher, you air welcome te Sloppy Gulch," replied Seth. "W air a rough lot, Pm afeard, and wei nigh past savin', but bad as we air, 1 shall never he said as we treated preacher bad. Come and name you pizen."
 The preacher offered no objection and accordingly he and Seth moved oi together towards Wall Eyed Jim's a loon, followed at . respectful distane by tho crowd.
 Wall-Eyed Jim had just turned O his "pizenS tap to, fill glass as tn pair entered. The agitAted state Q his mind whom he caught sight of